Riding Out the Storm
by KnightOfHvn
Summary: A one-shot exploring the idea of the world of magic crossing over with the world of the mundane. A man lost in the real world and dreaming of the hidden world is drawn face to face with what he's sought, no matter how strange the journey Edwin must go on in the end.


Disclaimer: I don't own the alluded to elements of J.K. Rowling's worlds or FEMA or pretty much anything else for that matter and will make no profit off of this other than getting the idea out of my head.

Riding Out the Storm

Rain leaked in over Edwin's head through a small hole in the canvas roof, but he just shifted the rain coat he'd gotten to cover his head. The young woman next to him cuddled closer as a drop hit her. She was asleep and the rain disturbed her. He stretched his army blanket over her and looked out the back exit, past the other newly homeless people at the disaster zone that had been their home. The beat up personnel carrier was taking them to their new home now.

The roaring had drawn his eyes, the blotting of the sun from its clear sky even more so. It was a shock. There was no rain in the forecast for the week. A tornado in a clear day was terrifying. At least he thought that's what terror was until one set down a block away from him, shattering a store front. His favorite diner. He ran to his home. His wife had thrown him out, but she was close to the first one. Too close. He couldn't remember when her day off was.

The front door was open, not broken, just open and he heard screaming. Taylor's screaming. He ran in and saw her pinned to her bed, ropes tied around her wrists and ankles. A cloaked figure was sitting on top of her and speaking, a strange inhuman voice pouring from his lips. His hand struck, a knife piercing her heart. He reached by the door, grabbing the bat that he'd always kept there for security sake. She'd kept it there. Even if she hated his paranoia, she kept it there.

The figure turned in time to see the bat swing. He struck the man in the face, knocking her from his wife. He moaned and something made him grab the knife. He took it and stabbed the man, ramming it home through his heart. He could see the light literally leave the man's eyes, a blue glow fading to reveal grey eyes. The man looked young, despite the fact that his hair was white blonde. His features were cruel, though. Even in death, he sneered. Edwin stood and spit on him.

The twister had been heading this way. He couldn't stop to mourn yet. He packed a bag with some clothes, his camping knapsack and the clothes that he'd left behind. She'd kept those, too. He kept the knife, pulling it from the murderer's chest and wiping it clean, wrapping it in a towel. That he shoved deep into the bag. He stood, lifting the bat and stopped, looking at his wife. He had to close her eyes. As he did, he noticed something strange. The ropes were gone. There were light marks around her wrist where she'd struggled, but he doubted it would even leave bruises. He reached out and closed her eyes, then grabbed the bat and ran.

More tornadoes were on the ground, far in the distance and close enough to scare him, but they were unraveling as he watched. The rain still poured down, pounding the wreckage of houses and buildings. He heard a scream and turned to see a pair of teens running after a woman. She was in a tight short denim skirt and that held her up some. Blood still hot from killing his wife's murderer, he charged after them. One had a knife out and he went down quickest, his mind clearly on his prize. Two blows from the bat and he felt ready to leave the first thug behind. The second had gotten ahold of her, tearing her shirt as he wrestled her to the ground.

Edwin shook his head, took a reverse on his golf stance and swung hard enough to flip the teenager off of her, landing him on his back and screaming. "Hole in one. Nice." To make sure the teen was out, he gave him a few more blows to the head and body. "Follow me and I'll kill you. Got it?"

He paused long enough to help the girl to her feet. She covered herself and shivered, but Edwin dropped to one knee on the sidewalk, opening his bag enough to slide out a tshirt he'd grabbed. "Here."

He took off running, barely paying attention to the footfalls behind him. She could follow if she wanted, he didn't know where he was going either. He had an idea, if it was still standing. There was a new overpass built for a planned bypass. That section was complete and it was fairly near. It might be dry under there. Safe if the storms started again. It was also less than a mile from there.

The woman caught up with him pretty quickly. "Thanks."

"No worries. I couldn't let that go on."

The overpass was there and they huddled there until the military had arrived.

Movement at his side brought him back to the future. The woman who'd stuck to him like glue since her attack had nuzzled closer. She shivered, as though she were used to a warmer climate. He reached his arm around her and held her, fighting back the strange feelings of interest and regret he felt. She was pretty and if he hadn't seen what he'd seen in his house, he'd have thought it flattering that she was curled up next to him, too tight tshirt barely concealing what God had given her, denim mini skirt rising tantalizingly above the knee. She almost seemed custom tailored to distract him from everything.

He wondered about the military convoy. Distraction too?

He chuckled. He could hear his dead wife speaking. "Conspiracy theories. You'd pin all of this on aliens and the Illuminati if you could."

He'd been drawn to the hidden worlds for years. He knew it. Something about them all seemed so real, even if the ones he kept finding were so…stupid. Then the storms hit. Thirty-five tornados, all landing in one city. Tracking from building to building, smashing and ripping the evidence of mankind from the surface. He'd listened to others descriptions and realized he'd seen something else. Something that they hadn't seen. Shadows moving amongst the tornadoes, riding the winds or even stirring them. Men walking untouched through winds that had had men crawling on the ground. No one mentioned those things.

The woman next to him snuggled closer, the rough military blankets helping, but everything was wet. How could things not be, the storm cell that would support so many twisters in one place had soaked everything. Except for some of the fires. That bothered him, even though everyone else seemed to ignore them. Buildings burned in the midst of the torrents of rain that fell, one was burning even as it flooded, the waters doing nothing to the bright red flames that ran along the building's structure. Water rising to cover, but not consume them.

He shivered, then tightened his arm around the woman, wondering what her name was as he stretched his raincoat out to cover them both.

**ψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψ**

"You saw men."

"Yes." Edwin stared at the young soldier, interviewing them one by one. He was one of a dozen. Why were the military interviewing them over a natural event like that?

"They walked through the storms?"

He sighed. The repetitions were tiring, along with the mute white walls and droning lights above him. "Crouched low and wearing some kind of cloak. I don't know what to say. It's what I saw. That's what the guy looked like that killed my wife." He shook his head. "It's been a week, I've told the same story to three other of you nameless government lackeys. Why do you keep asking?"

"Sir, you must admit that you were under a high stress situation. Your wife was found murdered and a man with her. You have one of the weapons that attacked the man, but you only say you killed the man in self-defense. It's a strange story. Especially since your weapon doesn't match the weapon that actually killed the man."

Edwin had heard this several times now, was branded a pariah in the emergency housing and no one would go near him except for the woman. Lydia. She was having to swap through barely fitting clothes that she could get from the donation center and she was the only one willing to share a dorm with him. Everyone else was afraid he'd murder them in their sleep.

She was the only one to know he still had that knife. Something told him that it was horrible, evil even, but he couldn't set it aside. He had to keep it. It was wrapped in a pair of socks in the bottom of a bag he'd managed to grab a few necessities before he fled his house at the coming of one of those strange tornadoes. He'd watched them slowly fade just after he'd killed the man in the cloak. Not pull into the sky, just fall apart. The rain stayed, though. He wasn't sure, but it seemed strange.

The man let him go, there was no evidence without the murder weapon and they'd searched the bag he carried and the house he was staying in with Lydia. For some reason, they never saw it.

He went back to the room and laid down on the bed. It was late. They liked to interview him last for some reason. That lieutenant had stared over his shoulder half the time, staring at the doorway, like he expected company. No one had come, though.

He stared at the wall before he felt warm arms encircle him. He flinched, the closeness to his roommate still strange with his wife's death. Still, he let her hold him. "You should just show them the knife."

"That's all they'll need to hang me. Something's going on, Lydia. Why would they keep coming after me? Why don't they believe me that I saw something?"

"Why would the knife condemn you? They already know you were estranged. If they didn't arrest you with that and you admitting that you saw the man stab your wife, I doubt you keeping it would seem strange."

Edwin was silent for a moment. "I don't even know why I'm keeping it. It's like there's something…I can't put my finger on. Can't let it go unprotected."

Her arms tensed and she pulled back a little. "Like you want to protect it?"

"No, protect everyone else from it. There's something wrong with it…oh, you'll just think I'm crazy like Taylor did. She swore I was a conspiracy nut."

Lydia snuggled back up to him and he turned over to hold her. "How long had you been separated from Taylor?"

"Six months. She said she couldn't take my obsession with this hidden world I know is there. I just couldn't get her to see my side. I still loved her, even as she handed me a suitcase and kicked me out."

She kissed him on the cheek. "And here I thought I could get to love my knight in shining armor."

He smiled, even though he wasn't sure why at this point. "A week and you love me?"

"Well, love might be too strong, but I did know you jumped those guys who came after me. That's why I followed you. That's why you have a witness that you did not kill your wife."

"Witness?"

"I saw through the window. I saw you kill the man, but I'd say it was self-defense in my book."

He kissed her, gently, chastely. "I didn't know you'd seen it. I still don't know how you kept up with me in that miniskirt after your attack."

"Maybe I'm a detective, too."

Nothing else happened that night, but Lydia didn't return to her bed. Edwin enjoyed the company. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like he was crazy anymore.

**ψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψΨψ**

That morning, a strange man was sitting in their kitchen. The locks were crappy in the rough hostel FEMA'd made and the man had obviously helped himself to the coffee. Edwin sniffed once before he walked in. No, it was tea. An English blend with milk in it. Honey. The jar was still on the counter.

"Edwin White?"

"I'd say make yourself at home, but you already did."

The man gave him a smile. "Most people are glad to see me. Sometimes it's nice to get out and see a place where I'm not already famous. I'm Harry."

"You don't look that hairy." Edwin stepped forward and sat, deciding that things were surreal enough that this could be normal. "Edwin…but you already know that." Edwin's eyes ran over the man and he frowned. "Black suit, black tie, white shirt…no insignias. You're not here to rob us, you're not government. So, here to tell me to forget what I saw?"

"I actually am working with the government," the man said, taking a sip from his drink. His British accent was more noticeable, the idea of being a government man bothered him, it seemed. Earlier, it was very faded and he wasn't sure before.

"So, what's a London man doing working with the redheaded off shoot cousins?"

Harry laughed. "Surrey, actually, but close enough for your being an American."

"I watch a lot of television, too much of the tourism channels. "

Harry nodded, then gestured to his tea, but Edwin shook his head. "I'm actually here for a reason. An artifact went missing several years ago from one of our Ministry offices. I've been tracking it and landed here. Your government has suggested that it may be in your possession."

As Harry took a drink from his tea, Edwin nodded. It felt right. "The dagger. No one…only one person knew I had it."

"I had to tell him, Edwin. To tell them." Lydia walked in, long tshirt that she'd slept in and the usual lack of shame. Edwin sighed and nudged out the chair for her as she walked up. It'd been fun while it lasted.

"Why didn't the military find it?"

"Muggles tend to miss some things," Harry said.

"I don't know…never heard that word before."

Harry nodded. "Not surprised. May I have the dagger?"

Edwin nodded, getting up to get it. He kept it wrapped in the socks and handed it over. "You shouldn't touch it. It's evil."

"I have to. For your wife's sake." Harry unwrapped the dagger and Edwin felt the hair on his neck stand up. It was an ugly thing, rough iron and a jeweled eye in the hilt. The eye was black, obsidian he thought, but wasn't sure. It almost seemed to glow.

"Damn. A soul eater. You were right, Lydia."

"He only used it once, on the leader of the cult. I don't know why his wife was chosen as a sacrifice, but that's what he walked in on. If he hadn't hit the guy, he would have finished the ritual."

Edwin suddenly realized that language was being tossed around in front of him casually that was usually joked about in his presence or flat out whispered by sources who were terrified to speak. "What are you two talking about?"

"You know, Edwin, I would have been here earlier," Harry said, reaching into his pocket to pull a pouch out, setting it gently onto the table. "I had to do a background check on you. Lydia's description made so little sense until I found out what I did. Your birth name is not Edwin White. You are Edwin Rosier, Jr. Citizen of Great Britain. Son of one of the nastiest wizards to walk this earth, one I assure you I was glad to see the death of. Your mother found out you were born a squib and she got rid of you, gave you to a family she knew and doctored papers. They moved to the US and hid their background, but you were actually the London man here."

"That's not possible. I remember growing up here."

Harry nodded. "Yet I've used several strange words here and you never asked about them. I said squib and wizard."

"You said he was a cult leader. A squib is a firework that fails to burn, I think. I don't know why you would call me that."

"Interesting you know that. It's also the name of a person born to a Magical family without Magic. A muggle is a person born without any magic, but a squib has a trace. Just enough to identify to those looking for such things. I actually think everyone has magic and the baseline is just off, but that's just my opinion." He opened the pouch and pulled out a pair of long skin gloves. They were scaled and he couldn't identify the animal.

Lydia pulled a stick from her pocket and flicked it at the window and the blinds dropped, making Edwin jump. "I'm a witch, I should say. A metamorph, too. I don't really look like this, but I thought you might like the appearance."

She changed shape a little in front of him, the chest that had pushed against the too tight tshirt reducing slightly, hair turning from the long black to a shorter blonde cut. "I had a feeling I should look for you," she said as her brown eyes turned green.

Edwin looked at her for a moment. "I would have come to help you no matter what."

Lydia blushed. "I didn't know you then."

Harry held his hands up and the dagger floated between them, the glow from the eye shifting from just perceptible turning into purple flares, shooting out around the room, slowly coming to a tight orbit in a cylinder over a stone he'd placed on the table while Edwin's attention was directed to Lydia, if that was her real name.

"If the ceremony had been completed, he would have unleashed an Earth elemental. This dagger is the Element's Soul and he was one soul away from controlling the Earth itself. I never knew that madman was as far along as he was."

Harry shook his head as he began chanting and the flares took on human forms. One, the first to have shot out, turned red and was consumed in fire. "Well, Draco, you wanted power. I'd hoped you'd learned with Voldemort's fall."

The next one grew large as he continued chanting. It wasn't Latin, but sounded old. The form swelled and stood before him. Taylor. His wife.

"I know now. You were remembering. They told me, in the stone, about this. Some of them were witches and wizards, a hidden society just like you thought."

"I guess 'I told you so' is in bad taste."

She laughed. "Yes, but I earned it. I'm sorry I threw you out. I did love you, but I couldn't live that life. Now, I wish I had. You would have sensed him coming, I think."

"That's how I knew he was there. Something felt wrong. I came for you, to save you. I didn't want you to die in that storm."

She smiled, nodding. "They said that you might not have been a Squib, but that you were something else. A Sensitive, they called it. You can't use magic, but you can sense it. You know good from bad. You can probably even used some of their artifacts."

"He can. He killed your killer." Harry spoke quietly.

Taylor looked back to Harry and nodded. "You may have some kind of destiny, Edwin. I'm sorry I couldn't see it." She looked past him to Lydia and then back. "Girlfriend?"

"Roommate. She was watching me."

Taylor shook her head. "You like her, you get a twinkle in your eyes when you spoke about her. I free you, I need you to live. Since I can't anymore, live for both of us. I did you wrong, but at least I can tell you to enjoy the time you have."

Edwin nodded. "I'll miss you."

"I know. I'll be waiting for you."

Harry chanted again, releasing her soul. It floated skyward, fading away as she waved. Lydia put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He simply stood there and watched as Harry released the others, taking quick statements from each of them, checking names off from a list as he did. He nodded as the last vanished. "Then at least I did a good thing."

"The Bureau of Mages has given you a choice. I can make you forget about the magic again, like your mother did. It probably won't work. It's drawn to you." He scruffed his hair back, revealing a faded lightning bolt scar. "Trust me, I know about being marked by fate."

Edwin nodded. "And the other choice?"

"Work with them. Your skills as a private eye could be beneficial. They work closer with the muggles than we do in England, so you will get a badge, work with locals on the strange cases, like that show that used to play on television here."

He chuckled. "Sounds interesting."

"They'd pair you with a wand, someone to do the magic you can't do. They had someone in mind, but was concerned that you might have some trust issues."

"I do," he said, feeling the hand slip away. He paused for a second in thought. "But trust fades and grows, each way with time."

Lydia sniffed behind him and walked away. "So you'll consider it?"

"I'll consider the partner. I want the assignment."

Harry pulled a wallet from his coat pocket and flipped it towards him. His identification already there, identifying him as a probationary FBI agent. "You'll have to go through training like anyone else, but you're in regardless."

"I'll pass."

"What about Lydia?"

"Depends…" He picked up the leather fold and shoved it into his pocket. "I'm sure I'll see you again."

"I'm in England, mate."

Edwin stopped at the doorway and looked at him. "I trust my instincts."

Harry grinned and tossed back the last of his tea, pocketing the pouch that was suddenly full again. "Something tells me I will see you again."

"I'll let you see yourself out, then." Edwin walked back to his room, following the sound of the young woman's sniffing.

"I didn't want to lie."

"Okay. So, let's start with the basics. Are you really Lydia?"

She nodded. "Lydia Winters."

"Ugh, White and Winters. There'd be jokes about that, I bet."

She looked at him strangely. "You're thinking about this?"

Edwin nodded slowly. "Of course, that means that kiss might be the last."

"Our section of the Bureau is a little more lenient than the rest. If you're interested…the only thing I did is fake my looks." Her hair grew long as she was talking, but nothing changed. "This part isn't cheating, length isn't a big deal as long as I'm not caught."

Her face was slightly different, but very subtle. She really had kept close to the truth. The freckles were cute. "So, you thought you needed a tight tshirt and a big chest to get my attention?"

"Well, theirs. You'd seen me by then and I didn't know if you'd remember me…and the shirt wasn't tight until I changed."

He nodded. "Well, let's try friends and see where that goes."

She stood, wiping her eyes and wrapped him in a hug. "Thanks. Most people give me a lot of grief about the shapeshifting."

"I bet." He didn't voice his own questions. "I'm still tired, I think."

"Me, too." There was something in the voice and he knew she wasn't leaving. He climbed into bed and she cuddled up with him. "So, do you have to change shapes? Or do you just choose to?"

She laughed. "It's fun to be someone else sometimes." She kissed his cheek. "But I might would do requests for the right person."

"Appealing to the dark side of my personality does not bode well for my suggestion to be just friends." He tried to laugh, but seeing his wife again had taken a lot out of him.

She seemed to take the hint, turning her back to him and he cuddled up behind her. "Just promise me you'll give me a chance."

He was silent for a moment. "I am now, Lydia. I promise that I am now."

Author's Note: My first foray into the FanFiction universe, so be nice to a newbie. Be honest, but be gentle.

This idea stemmed as a dream I had and I wrote it in the hospital waiting on the results of some medical tests. Some tweaks and rewrites later and I'm tossing it out there. Enjoy!


End file.
